Page 39 of Snap Shot

“She wanted to get married. I didn't.”

I scrawl more notes.

“We stayed friends, and she invited me to a show in Toronto. She's smiling in that picture because she told me she met someone.”

I trace over the written timeline. “You're telling me between Sierra and Annalise, you didn't sleep with anyone?”

His fingers press into his forehead. “I went on a few dates, but it's hard to maintain a relationship. It's a busy life. And I'm not the guy they're making me out to be.”

“No sex in six years.” I scribble onto the paper. “Got it!”

Landon hides behind his hands. “Indi!”

“I'm kidding!Jeez. I didn't write that down.”

“Do you believe me?” The genuine worry in his eyes has my heart teetering, creating a lull in the conversation.

“Yes.” I don't want to, but I do. Maybe he's not a playboy.

A grateful smile softens his face. I knock back the leftover alcohol in my glass to stop from staring at the maroon tint staining his lower lip, those shoulders, strong arms...Shhhhh. That's the red wine talking.

The notepad closes with a muted slap. “I think that's enough for today. We can talk about evidence another time.”

Sitting upright for so long without support has my back aching. I slump into the couch. Warmth in my gut blooms, hugging my insides like a fluffy down comforter. I search for a more comfortable position, turning to lie across the cushions and boost my feet to the armrest.

Landon mirrors me on the opposite side of the sectional, lacing his fingers together over his belly and gazing at the ceiling. His head falls to the side to look at me. “I'm still shocked, Indi. How have you never had a boyfriend?”

“No one ever wanted to be.”

“Idiots.”

My inhibitions are on vacation for the time being. I twist to a half-sit and smack my hand against the cushion. “Iknow! I'm a fuckingcatch!”

Landon chuckles. “Totally.”

“You wanna know the real reason why Ms.Indira Davé is the youngest woman to work in the Supreme Court?”

“Absolutely.”

“Hold onto your hat and boots, cowboy! I took every online class offered in high school so I could graduate early.” I hum out a string ofmmms in disapproval. “University was supposed to be a fresh start. I kept my head in books and stayed away from parties. You'd think I learned my lesson.” I lie back down, both hands palming the sides of my head. “I got paired with this ridiculously good-looking right-winger for a PoliSci class. Believe it or not, I had a reputation for being an ice queen.”

Landon gasps and holds a stretched hand to his chest. “No!”

I wave off his dramatics. “Yes! And he somehow fooled me into thinking we were together. Everyone on campus knew it was a joke and wouldn’t shut up about it. I couldn't deal and graduated the next year as a junior, then moved to Ottawa for law school.”

“Christ, Indi.” Landon sits up and drags his hands down his face before clasping the back of his neck with them and tugging. Visibly uncomfortable. Probably pitying me.

“Now I'm gonna die a virgin.” It's supposed to stay in my head, but my mouth has a different plan.

“What?”

“What?” I echo.

“What'd you say?” He tilts his ear in my direction.

“Nothing.” I've said too much. Maybe he didn't hear. Maybe he'll forget it by morning. “I should go.” My legs veer off the edge of the couch and launch me upright, but it's too hasty, too quick. The room spins and my balance goes off-kilter. “Whooooa.”

Instead of falling onto the rug like I expect, I crash into firm swells of muscle. Large, warm hands grip my waist, steadying me from wobbly knees. A swallow descends the column of Landon's throat, his chest heaving from where I peer up through heavy lashes. “How're you getting home?”

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